A Ghost Town on a Saturday Night

The Dining room at Zeleny Dum

After the wedding reception, my ride brought me back to a poorly lit ghost town. No matter how many times anyone would tell me this is a safe town and I don’t need to worry, I just cannot help but feel a little uneasy every time I walk in the alley to my door.

After chatting with Dami and Mama D, I thought I’d better go out and try to find something to eat before it was too late. It turned out mostly everything was closed and the Vietnamese woman in the very small convenience store didn’t understand I wanted plain sardines in oil only and nothing else. I said “Restaurace” and left and walked across the street to Zeleny Dum.

The Dining room at Zeleny DumI walked in and I wasn’t sure I was in a restaurant, there was nobody and way in the back in the smoked filled bar, was a waitress who knew who I was because in this small village everybody knows each other and the owner of the pension where I am living had called her because she knew she was one of the few who spoke English.

I walked towards her and said “mluvite Anglicky?” She came to see me and I started crying… I was so tired and hungry. I had food at the wedding but only for lunch and now I was hungry and desperate. I told the barmaid called  Liba that I was on a restricted diet and that there many foods I couldn`t eat. She brought me in the kitchen and introduced me to the cook Richard who prepared for me plain grilled chicken with plain white rice that I brought to my room.

While I waited, it was quite uncomfortable being the only woman among a bunch of bored drinking young men. Liba pointed out to 3 of them whom she said were eager to practice English. I declined the offer and kept my back turned. No offense to these young men, they were probably very nice but it didn’t seem appropriate.

So Liba scolded me and told me I shouldn’t stay in my room and not to be afraid to go out and go to the restaurant whenever I felt lonely or hungry; they would prepare anything I wanted if it was possible. The cook mentioned he had been 9 months to Irak, probably meaning he would defend me if anything happened to me. So Liba told me to come for breakfast and to ask the waitress to go and get the cook.

She offered to accompany me to the mini Vietnamese convenience store across the street and chose the right kind of water for me because she didn’t trust the tap water which Mama  D thinks might make me ill. I also was able to find the right sardines with in oil. How nice of her to leave her work.
The chicken and rice were delicious and it felt nice to have a good meal. After a nice evening in touch with home, I went to bed and had a good night sleep.

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